Ana watched Neal read to her sister, impressed by her animation and expressiveness. Sarah might have no idea they were in the room, but Ana felt every word come alive. She’d read the book a dozen times, in secret, holed up in her suite at the house where no one else could see or judge, but hearing someone else read it aloud was like an affirmation, an awakening. She wasn’t alone. Others read and enjoyed these stories, and they reflected a life that was real or could be if she could find her way out of the one she was in. And she had to.
“I think that’s enough for today.”
Ana looked up at Neal who held the phone out toward her. Sarah’s head had rolled to the side and her eyes were droopy, and Ana glanced at the page count on her phone. She must’ve wandered off into thought while Neal had read judging by how far into the book she’d gotten. “You left off at a really good part.”
Neal smiled. “I know, but I think it’s more about the act of being read to for her than the story itself.”
She stood, leaned over, and kissed her sister on the cheek. Ana watched the tender, personal moment, feeling like she should glance away, but unable to resist witnessing this side of Neal. When Neal looked her way, her eyes were wet with tears and Ana started to go to her, to comfort her, but as she drew closer, Neal held up a hand and pointed to the door.
“We should go.”
Ana followed her to the door and watched while Neal tracked down the orderly who’d ushered them in. She stood a few feet away while they had a whispered conversation that ended with Neal pressing a wad of cash into the orderly’s hand. She had many questions. Now wasn’t the time to ask them, but she resolved to learn more about this enigmatic woman who seemed to have given her life over to protecting everyone’s interests at the expense of her own.
They walked out of the facility, side by side. Ana paused when they reached the parking lot. She’d taken a car service from the airport and sent them away, unsure what the day would hold and impulsively anxious to get to Neal. Poor planning on her part.
Neal looked back over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Ana grimaced. “I didn’t plan past finding you, and it appears I’m stranded. She held up her phone. I’m going to see if I can call for a ride.”
“You know they have apps for that.”
“Don’t look at me like I’m a hundred years old. I know they do. I also know they keep records and anyone who might be able to access my phone will be able to track my movements.”
Neal nodded. “Good point.” She held up her keys. “Good thing I have a car.” She turned and started walking in the other direction. She was a few steps away when she called out, “Are you coming?”
Ana walked briskly to make up the distance, both relieved to have a ride and exhilarated at the idea of spending more time with Neal.
“I’m starving,” Neal said. “Are you hungry?”
“I am. Dinner’s on me. As payment for the ride.”
“Maybe you should wait to see how the ride goes before you make promises about paying. Louisiana is full of swamps. I could be taking you to the middle of nowhere and leaving you there.”
“I doubt that.”
Neal cocked her head. “Is that so. Why?”
“Because a woman who cares for her sister the way you do wouldn’t have the heart to abandon a stranger who was in need.”
“You just spent an hour listening to me read to my disabled sister. I hardly think you’re a stranger.”
“All the more reason you won’t abandon me.” Ana held out her hand. “Take me somewhere decadent and expensive where we can talk in private.” She waited through the uncomfortable silence until Neal finally reached out and grabbed her hand, clenching tightly as she led her to the car. Mikhail often steered her around, in a display of ownership, but this was different. It was like Neal was holding to a lifeline and Ana squeezed back to let her know she’d found one. Neal was supposed to be saving her, but after what she’d just witnessed, it might be Neal who needed to be rescued.
They drove for a while, past several shabby, tired towns, through a bustling downtown that spilled out into a neighborhood full of large, stately homes with bright green manicured landscapes. Ana took in the gorgeous gardens and the old-fashioned trolley and was transported. This place is magical. I could stay here. Never go back.
As quickly as the thought appeared, a dozen objections emerged to rob it of life. It’s too close. He would find me here. I can’t leave until everything is in place, and Mikhail being left alive in order to hunt her down wasn’t an option.
They pulled up in front of a building with a subtle sign, Blanchard’s. She’d read a feature piece on the restaurant in the airline magazine, and was pleased with Neal’s choice though she feared that without a reservation they were unlikely to get in.
She needn’t have worried. After they left the car with the valet and stepped into the crowded lobby, Neal told the hostess she needed a party of two for a friend of Muriel Casey. The hostess’s hesitation was barely noticeable, but Ana had developed a keen ability to read micro expressions, a skill that came in handy when dealing with Mikhail and his crew. The woman picked up a phone, whispered a few words, and faced them with a broad smile. “It would be my pleasure to seat you at one of our finest tables.”
Ana waited until they were seated, and the hostess was out of sight before leaning close to Neal. “Do you know the Caseys?”
“I do.” Neal pointed at the menu. “You should know that I’m starving, and I plan to order the most expensive meal on the menu.”
Most people who knew the head of a celebrated organized crime family well enough to invoke the family name in order to get a table for dinner would be happy to share that fact, but Neal seemed completely disinterested in discussing the issue. “Cain Casey has quite the reputation.”
“She’s earned it. Trust me.”
The waiter appeared and Neal ordered a Jameson’s, neat, a plate of oysters, and a large steak. When she finished her order, Ana handed the waiter the menu and simply said, “Same.”
Neal raised an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as a steak girl.”
“I’m not a girl at all, so that makes sense.”
“You know what I meant.”
Now it was Ana’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “I don’t. Care to fill me in?”
Neal’s face reddened and she took a sip of water. When she finally set the glass down, she said, “I guess you seem like more of a vodka soda and salad kind of woman.” She waved her hand from Ana’s head to her feet to further emphasize the point.
Ana laughed. “You’re not wrong about the vodka, but I would never weaken it with cheap carbonated water. And you think we survive Russian winters on salad?” She shook her head. “You Americans have so much to learn.”
“How did you wind up here anyway? Isn’t your family a big deal in Russia?”
The question caught her off guard since she’d expected they would talk about Sarah and Neal’s encounter with Dominique and her plan to break from Mikhail. The origin of how she’d come to be in the States in the first place was a sore spot she didn’t much care to revisit. But Neal had shared a vulnerable moment with her today and it would only be fair for her to do the same.
The waiter returned then with their drinks and slipped away quickly as if he sensed they were on the cusp of a private conversation. Ana took a deep swallow and let the alcohol’s warm blaze burn through her reticence. “My family is rich and powerful. A big deal, as you say, but there are always limits to what can be achieved in Russia because the government doesn’t allow anyone to get too successful for fear they will seek freedoms that allow them to become even more powerful in a way that can no longer be controlled.”
Neal nodded. “Communism at its finest.”
“Communism isn’t the worst idea, but it doesn’t work when individual ambition is rewarded. People begin to believe they do not need to rely on anyone else for their success and therefore should not have to share the spoils of their work. It all falls apart and the rich become richer and the poor despair.”
“You still haven’t answered the question.”
“I’m getting there.” Ana took another sip of her drink. “My family became a little too successful and the Kremlin stepped in to take more than their fair share. Mikhail’s family had already established enterprises abroad, out of Putin’s greedy clutches, and an alliance was formed.”
“Ah, I see. You married Mikhail for business.”
“Yes.” She scoured Neal’s face, noting the hint of disdain. “You judge me for it.”
“I don’t.”
Ana didn’t believe her, but she didn’t blame her either. “Our arrangement is about business alone. Nothing more.”
“Does your family know you’re gay?”
Ana choked mid-swallow and glanced around, but no one at any of the nearby tables seemed to have heard or registered Neal’s question. She’d asked it like it was a topic they’d discussed before and one of minimal consequence, and her casualness made Ana angry. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why?” Neal asked in an over exaggerated whisper. “Is it a secret?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“In my country, you can be locked up, spirited away for such things. Marrying Mikhail was more than simply duty to my family. I did it to hide who I am.”
“But now you want to break free.”
“It was inevitable. Coming to this country allowed me to see that there are possibilities I could not have envisioned for myself back in Mother Russia. At some point, Mikhail will be called back by his family and his younger brother will take over here. If I do not make my move before then, then I will return with him, and I don’t know that I will ever be free.”
“Well, that explains why you’re so desperate to work with your husband’s mortal enemy.”
“I have been planning for a long time, but circumstance is the reason I look to you and Siobhan now. With Don Carlo’s death and the divide in the family, it’s the perfect opportunity to form new alliances.”
Neal winced at the words and Ana instantly regretted how callous they sounded. “My apologies. I know you both lost someone close to you. I didn’t mean to make it sound like a boon.”
“It’s not just Siobhan and I who lost someone close. Dominique and Celia Mancuso have lost a father as well.”
Warning bells went off at the mention of Dominique and Neal’s ostensible deference to their feelings. She had to tread carefully here. “So, it’s true. Your visit with Dominique was a friendly one.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Neal’s face. “I’m not sure I would call it friendly, but it was interesting. I figured you’d know more about it since she’s in business with your husband.”
“Can we agree to stop calling him that?”
“I get it. You want to stop thinking of him like a person so when you make the call to end his life, you don’t feel so bad about it.” Neal shrugged. “I’m not sure I can give you what you want.”
Ana looked around at the other tables, relieved again no one appeared to be interested in their conversation since Neal insisted on being so direct. It was time for her to be direct too. “You think I’m asking you to help me for selfish reasons. Because I’m trapped in a marriage that was arranged for me, because as long as I remain trapped, I cannot be myself, cannot love who I want.” She paused. “All of that is true, but it’s not the whole story.” She took a drink to gather herself.
“Mikhail is not a person. He’s a monster. He makes his money by trafficking young girls into prostitution and selling drugs on a massive scale. Did Dominique show you the hidden buildings with the fancy rooms where she will help him carry out his atrocities? Where dressed-up wealthy people will go to indulge their fantasies, not caring about the cost of their gratification on those they deem beneath them. Did they offer you an insane amount of money to work with them?”
Neal didn’t meet her eyes, which confirmed there was truth in her accusations, but not whether Dominique had been successful in her quest to win Neal over. No longer caring about discretion, Ana reached out and placed her hand on Neal’s. “Tell me.”
Neal looked up slowly, her eyes reflecting pain and conflict. Ana squeezed her hand gently, determined not to make any sudden movements lest she chase away the version of Neal who seemed to want to be close to her.
“She did offer me a job. A generous offer.” Neal paused. “She said a lot of things that were designed to get me to distrust Siobhan and Royal.”
Ana was warmed by the level of trust it took for Neal to admit any of those things to her. She pressed forward carefully. “Did it work?”
Neal picked at one of the rolls the waiter had left for them. “I already distrust Royal.”
She’d distrusted Royal too, up until the moment Royal and Siobhan had shared with her a list of places they thought Neal might be if she wasn’t with Dominique. The list had been short, consisting of only Sanctuary and the small town of Ponchatoula, where Neal had grown up. Ana would’ve preferred confronting Dominique herself, but Siobhan had pointed out the pitfalls in such an approach, urging her to see that a direct assault on the business partner of the husband she was trying to manipulate would only jeopardize her long-term plans. She had to believe a true enemy wouldn’t try to sway her from making such a mistake.
But Neal surely had her own motivations for not trusting Royal, and Ana chose her words carefully. “You’re not alone. Is it because she was an FBI agent or is it something else?”
“It started with that, but now I don’t know. Everything has changed, and I guess I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“You guarded Siobhan for years and you feel like she doesn’t need you anymore.”
Neal shifted in her seat. “I’m not a child. I don’t need to be needed.”
Ana started to point out that after what she’d witnessed at the facility this afternoon, being needed seemed to be the hallmark of Neal’s life but decided the truth of the statement would fall flat in this moment when Neal was unsure who to trust. Instead, she steered the conversation in a different direction. “Tell me about Sarah. Is she older or younger?”
A shadow crossed Neal’s face. “Older. Three years. She was the brains in the family. Accepted to Tulane on an academic scholarship instead of an athletic one.”
Ana heard the disdain in Neal’s voice. “I’ve seen clips of you playing basketball. You deserved your scholarship.”
“I thought I did. I thought I was on track to go all the way to the WNBA. This,” she motioned to indicate her height, “would finally be something to respect rather than something people pointed and laughed at.”
She gave a half smile, but her remark was laced with sadness, and Ana wasn’t fooled. The story Neal was about to tell was intimate and private and painful. She’d seen the reports on the internet about the star basketball player who lost her scholarship due to severe injuries that occurred off the court, but they were all long on speculation and short on detail, leaving her with more questions than answers. She was no stranger to festering secrets and the sway they held over every aspect of a person’s life. It wasn’t her business to push Neal, but she told herself it was for Neal’s sake as much as her own.
The waiter approached, flanked by an assistant, both of them carrying platters of food. Ana held up a hand before they reached the table and they stopped several feet away. She leaned toward Neal. “Are you hungry?”
Neal sighed. “I should be, but I’m not anymore.”
Ana signaled to the waiter. “We need all of this to-go, please. And the check. Thank you.” She reached a hand out to Neal. “Come on. I have an idea.”